


Questions

by mrs_leary (julie)



Series: Questions [1]
Category: Merlin (TV) RPF
Genre: Loss of Virginity, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2009-12-17
Updated: 2009-12-17
Packaged: 2017-10-28 09:33:52
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,763
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/306468
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/julie/pseuds/mrs_leary
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Colin and Bradley finally start asking each other the questions that have intrigued them.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Questions

**Author's Note:**

> A road trip fic, cos every Bradley/Colin writer needs at least one in their body of work!
> 
> Dedicated to the birthday girls, **euraylie** and **osolone**. ♥
> 
> This fic, and the first of its two sequels, _Answers_ , was:  
> ♥ Runner Up for Best Characterisation of Bradley in the Bradley/Colin pairing of the Merlin Slash Awards, Spring 2010. ♥  
> ♥ Runner Up for Best Long in the Bradley/Colin pairing of the Merlin Slash Awards, Spring 2010. ♥

♦

### one

It was Colin’s jeans that got to Bradley. It was the allure of Colin’s baggy low–slung jeans that he could not refuse. The temptation of them. The sheer wickedness of them riding so low on his narrow hips that they couldn’t possibly be held up by anything but willpower. Or maybe magic.

But along with that was The Question. Something that had, apparently, been bugging Colin Morgan for some time. The Question that he finally posed that night in Cardiff in his own hotel room – to which Bradley had accompanied him after dinner for reasons quite innocent – while naked to the waist – Colin, that was, not Bradley, who was still fully dressed, thank you –

Perhaps he’d better start that thought again.

So Bradley was sitting on the end of Colin’s bed with his hands stuffed in his jacket pockets – and there was Colin, narrow little rear propped against the desk, naked to the waist – having discarded his hoodie, the t–shirt bearing some surfing logo (when Bradley knew for a fact that Colin was a serious swimmer, yes, but had never been surfing in his _life_ ), the long–sleeved t–shirt, and… and there were his baggy jeans down round the top of his thighs almost, and sure there was a belt in them, some daggy old striped thing, but what the hell could be holding those jeans up when there was so little of Colin himself, and the jeans were riding too low to even be caught on the jut of his hipbones, and – and –

Yeah, and between the pale skin of Colin’s naked waist and his jeans was an expanse of grey briefs moulding around every long subtle plane and curve, and not quite reaching high enough to hide the start of a virile scattering of dark hair running from Colin’s belly button down below the waistband of said grey briefs…

In short, there was Colin Morgan in his half–naked glory finally asking The Question of Bradley James, which was: ‘ **Why are you still single?** ’

To which Bradley, after a long moment contemplating the surprising long–but–sweet curve of Colin’s biceps, wittily responded, ‘What?’

Colin, with a huff for Bradley’s absence of mind, repeated The Question. ‘Why are you still single?’

Bradley not only heard but understood him this time – and dragged his gaze away from Colin, and shrugged, and gave him an honest answer: ‘Dunno.’

‘I mean,’ said Colin, warming to his theme, ‘every time some interviewer asks about it, you complain about the situation. You say you don’t like being single. But then you don’t do anything about it. D’you want a girlfriend or not?’

Another shrug. ‘Yeah. I guess.’

‘Well, why don’t you do anything about it?’

‘What am I supposed to be doing?’

Colin kind of boggled at him. ‘What about that waitress in the restaurant just now?’

Bradley scrunched up his face and thought about it. Yeah, OK, he could vaguely recall a friendly smile and a bit of banter, a twinkle from warm brown eyes. And the food. The food was good there, and there was plenty of it. ‘Um, what about her?’

‘She was totally into you!’ Colin was beyond boggling now, as if they’d been talking about the idea of dragons or something, and Bradley had said he really truly believed, and then one had suddenly popped into Colin’s hotel room for real and introduced itself. ‘And she didn’t recognise us, so it wasn’t Bradley James the tv star or Prince Arthur she was into. It was _you_. And it wasn’t even just your looks, cos she got even more interested once you got your repartee going.’

Bradley looked away. It was all hopeless, of course. ‘Right,’ he said in an agreeable though discouraging kind of manner.

‘Maybe you should go back down there, and have another drink, and talk to her some more.’

Bradley shook his head. ‘That’s just what I _shouldn’t_ do. It’s the death knell of any attraction, talking. When I’m doing the talking, anyway.’

Colin looked vastly sceptical, but suggested, ‘Let her chat you up, then. Give her an inch, and she’ll take a mile, I’m sure of it.’ He cleared his throat, and shifted his shoulders uncomfortably. ‘Um, not in a bad way, I mean. She seemed nice, yeah? And willing to be proactive, for the right guy. The right guy being you.’

‘Only cos she doesn’t know me. Give her ten minutes of my undiluted company and –’

‘Nah, don’t give me that crap!’ Colin was looking a tad annoyed now, and he’d crossed his arms, looking askance at Bradley, and his shoulders were surprisingly wide and strong, and his chest – again with the virile scattering of dark hair, and while Bradley could see every one of Colin’s ribs delineated, Colin also had muscle, long lean strong muscle – and his chest tapered down to that narrow waist and those narrow hips which would probably move all snakelike and sinuous when – ‘That’s what you tell interviewers.’

‘I do not!’ Bradley protested, even while his mind scrambled back over what on earth he might have blurted in public about the intriguing nature of Colin’s hips.

‘You do, too. All those glib answers like, _Talk to me for ten minutes and you’ll understand why_.’

‘Oh,’ said Bradley. ‘Right.’ He’d caught up again now. ‘Well, it’s an amusing answer,’ he observed defensively.

‘Yeah, but it’s crap,’ Colin countered. ‘I’ve been talking to you for almost two years now, pretty much non–stop, and I still don’t know why.’

Bradley squinted at him. ‘You don’t know why you’re talking to me?’

‘I don’t know why you’re single,’ Colin retorted heavily. ‘Idiot.’

‘Oh.’

Colin waited for more, uncrossing his arms to rest his hands on the edge of the desk, either side of the aforementioned sinuous hips. Bradley contemplated those long pale fingers and wondered why they were such attractive hands, when really they weren’t classically shapely or anything, Colin would never get a job as a hand model or anything – they were just long and rather mesmerising, and Bradley wondered if Johnny and Julian had actually cast Colin not just for his awesome talent and his sweet weird beauty and his general ability to get along with _everyone_ , but also for his hands – given that Merlin’s hands were magical and they were such a big feature of the show, maybe Colin’s hands had been an important part of the casting process, maybe Colin’s hands were magical, too, those long fine pale narrow fingers might just…

‘Um,’ said Bradley, trying to derail his own train of thought. ‘What?’

‘What do you mean, what?’

‘What was the question?’

And Colin threw said magical hands in the air as if giving up. Then he made a move for his bag, and started ferreting through it, and Bradley contemplated Colin’s long back, his broad shoulders, the concave curve of Colin’s spine just above those grey briefs and the convex curve of his rear just below (or was the concave / convex thing the other way round? Either way, the lines were elegant, beautiful, from a purely aesthetic perspective) –

Except that maybe Colin was finding another top to put on, and then he wouldn’t be half naked any more, and Bradley wasn’t really sure of all that much any more, but he knew that would be bad – so he tried distraction as a strategy, and said, ‘I’ve got a question for you.’

‘Yeah?’

It worked, kind of, cos while Colin now held a fresh t–shirt in his hands, another of his surfing logos showing in hints between the crumples, which was misleading to anyone who didn’t know Colin like Bradley knew Colin – Yes, while he had a shirt in his hands, Colin was facing Bradley again with an enquiry on his face, and he was still half naked. And sure he was skinny, but the man was _fine_ …

‘What?’ Colin eventually prompted.

Which meant that Bradley had to come up with a question. And he really didn’t have any in mind just then, or at least none he could actually ask, so he went with the obvious. ‘ **What’s keeping your jeans up?** ’

And Colin just kind of gaped at him for a moment, and then looked down at himself – which was sort of funny, Colin Morgan peering down at his own low–slung waistband as if trying to spot the telltale hint of superglue or double–sided wardrobe malfunction tape or something. And then he looked back at Bradley, and said, ‘ _That’s_ what you’re going with? You probably could have asked me pretty much anything you wanted just then, under the circumstances – and you’re asking what’s holding up my jeans.’

‘Yeah,’ said Bradley, brazening it out. ‘Seems like.’

‘My belt,’ Colin replied, absolutely deadpan.

‘Ah.’

Colin let out a _sheesh_ kind of breath, and turned away.

‘OK, but what’s keeping your belt up?’ Bradley persisted. After all, it wasn’t even like Colin had to hitch his jeans up when he stood after sitting down or whatever. The jeans just seemed stuck there somehow. Or were maybe not subject to the normal laws of gravity.

Colin had cast him an _I don’t believe it_ glance, and now flatly replied, ‘Magic.’

‘I knew it!’ cried Bradley.

‘Oh shut up,’ like it wasn’t funny even in the slightest.

‘I _knew_ it was magic. I knew you had magic, Colin Morgan!’

‘Idiot.’

‘Well,’ Bradley argued quite reasonably, ‘it’s not like you have much of an arse there. I mean, it’s a _great_ arse, _obviously_ – but it’s all pretty narrow down there. All straight up and down, like. _Gentle_ curves. Nothing to hang anything off except maybe a hipbone or two, and those jeans are _way_ lower than your hipbones, and –’

Colin was still standing there with his fresh t–shirt in his hands, but he was _staring_ at Bradley now. Hard. Displeased.

‘I’m gonna quit babbling now,’ Bradley announced.

‘Good,’ said Colin.

‘But –’

‘What the hell are you checking out my _gentle_ curves for, anyway?’

‘Um…’

‘I’ll have you know,’ said Colin, starting to sound a bit irate now, ‘it’s _not_ all narrow down there. And for that matter, it’s _not_ all straight.’

Bradley sat there boggling, and trying to process that logically bit by bit – though his wayward mind had already leapt a long _long_ way ahead.

Colin suddenly flushed and turned away.

‘Hey, what d’you mean –’

Colin cut him off. ‘I think there’s been enough questions already tonight.’

‘But –’

‘ _Goodnight_ , Bradley.’

‘What?’ He stood up, which was dumb, but he didn’t budge otherwise. ‘What are you mad at _me_ for?’

‘I’m not,’ was the excessively patient reply. ‘I’m mad at me.’ Colin was looking kind of shamefaced, as if he felt he’d gone too far. ‘Just leave it be, would you? Pretend I didn’t say any of that.’

Bradley thought he preferred irate. ‘Look, um… OK, I’ve never worn jeans like that myself –’

‘Are we still talking jeans here?’

‘– but you’re not seriously telling me that your jeans are kept up by –’

 _‘Bradley.’_

‘– by your… completely _not_ narrow… and, um, perhaps a _bit_ bent… but definitely _virile_ manly assets?’

Colin did a wonderful droll _Duh!_ expression. Honestly, if they could bottle it, they’d be millionaires. ‘No, I’m not.’

‘What?’

‘I’m not telling you that, Bradley.’

‘Oh.’

They looked at each other warily. Or, well, they actually _didn’t_ look at each other. Their gazes kind of skirted round each other as they wondered what happened next, skittered off into the corners of the room as they pondered where this could possibly go.

Finally Colin tried, ‘Goodnight, Bradley…?’

And he mumbled in defeat, ‘Yeah, goodnight.’ And found himself shepherded at a safe distance towards the door while Colin hastily pulled on his shirt. ‘Colin,’ Bradley managed, before he was alone in the corridor listening to the clunk of Colin turning the lock. And then silence.

Bradley didn’t sleep well that night. He tossed and turned, tormented by imagining how one little tug on a belt–loop would be all it took to have those low–slung jeans pooling around Colin’s ankles, and really what did _it’s not all narrow down there_ mean anyway…? Enquiring minds wanted to know.

He was _way_ late for breakfast the next day.

♦

### two

The hotel in Mold was rather less salubrious than the one in Cardiff, and dear nerdy Colin was actually feeling pretty wrecked about missing the library what with his scenic route being plagued by crawling swarms of tractors, and then there were all the shots Mark and Stefan wanted to take of the two of them driving through the countryside (which was indeed scenic) in the Ford Focus which required a surprising amount of set–up (where was Dale when you needed him? Surely he could have done this on the fly), plus there was never a pub around serving meals when you were actually hungry for lunch and even if there was all they could provide for Colin was a plate of chips, hold the (chicken–flavoured) gravy. So, it was rather late by the time they were done eating dinner that night and planning for the next day, and Colin was yawning and looking sweetly pathetic like a twelve–year–old up _way_ past his bedtime.

Despite all of which, once Colin made sure they were actually all planned out and said his goodnights, Bradley stood up and made to follow him. ‘Bradley, if he needs tucking in,’ Mark commented, ‘that’s the director’s job, surely.’

‘Dibs!’ cried Bradley. ‘ _And_ I saw him first.’

‘Boys, boys,’ muttered Colin in a wearily placating manner. ‘Don’t start a scrap. There’s plenty of me to go around.’

‘Well, that’s just the trouble,’ Bradley retorted: ‘there _isn’t_. And anyway, I’m greedy. I don’t share.’

Colin rolled his eyes and sighed, before heading off, calling back over his shoulder, ‘Goodnight, all!’

‘Goodnight,’ Bradley echoed with a wink for Mark and Stefan – and he jogged off after Colin, and settled into step at his shoulder – Colin, who barely even acknowledged his presence, but seemed to relax a little with Bradley at his side.

Colin closed the hotel room door without comment once they were both inside. But then he cast a querying glance at Bradley as he put the key down on the desk, and started dealing with wallets and jackets and things. ‘What is it, Bradley?’ he eventually asked.

‘I have a proper question for you,’ Bradley announced.

‘Ah. And do you have to ask it tonight?’

‘Yeah.’

Colin sighed again, but then he turned around and propped his rear on the desk, folded his arms and waited. ‘OK. Go on, then.’

So Bradley sat on the end of the bed again, and he leant his elbows on his knees, and he thought hard for long moments, but he couldn’t really think of a good reason why he shouldn’t ask. So he did – and The Question tonight was: ‘ **How come you never answer?** In all this time, over a year now, whenever interviewers ask about girls or dating or your love life, you never reply.’

‘So?’ said Colin, tightening his folded arms across his (fully clothed, alas) chest.

‘So, how come? It’s not like you couldn’t deflect them with a generic answer if you wanted to.’

‘I don’t wanna start lying unless I really have to. I don’t want it to become this whole big thing.’

‘Is it cos you’re bent?’ Bradley blurted.

Colin stared at him with a pinched look around the mouth and nose. Then he turned obdurate. ‘You only get one question a night.’

‘Who says?’

‘Me.’

Bradley shifted his shoulders, restless with disgruntlement, sat back and shoved his hands deep into his jacket pockets. ‘Well, then, I guess the deal is that you have to answer it.’

The obdurateness (was that even a word? The obdurancy) turned into a glare for a moment before Colin finally relaxed. And he said, ‘It’s no one’s business but mine. That’s all.’

‘OK. But I’m your friend. Aren’t I? So why isn’t it my business as well?’

‘Dunno. Cos you’re a nosy idiot?’ But this was said with no heat at all, as if Colin were no longer feeling besieged.

‘I get that it’s not the business of the general public. Though they’re gonna keep asking, Colin, and the longer you hold out without answering, the more they’re gonna speculate and assume and come up with their own answers.’

‘They can imagine what they like,’ Colin responded a bit tersely. ‘I don’t care.’

Bradley let out an ironic huff. ‘If you really don’t care what they imagine, then why does it bother you when they imagine you and me being together?’

And Colin was back to scowling. ‘That’s different. Anyway, you only get one question, and it’s already been asked and answered.’

‘Well… I guess you get a question, too, right?’

Colin just stared at him, and asked rather pointedly, ‘ **Will you please just leave it alone, Bradley?** Whatever this is, just _leave it be_.’

He took a moment with that, but then protested, ‘That’s not a question! That’s, like, asking a favour. Not a request for information.’

‘It’s a question. It had a question mark at the end of it.’

‘Pedantic git.’

‘Well?’

‘No!’

‘That’s your answer?’

‘Yeah. Yeah, it is.’

‘Right.’ Colin stood, and waited. ‘ _Goodnight_ , Bradley.’

And he went, shut out of Colin’s hotel room and finally finding his own, grumbling under his breath the whole way. That was two evenings in a row that had ended badly. And Bradley had been looking forward to this trip for so long – hanging out with Colin, and driving round Wales on real roads, not like boring old motorways, exploring with Colin at his side and a map and his video camera. It had sounded like an adventure. It was turning into a rather mixed bag of highs and disappointments.

♦

### three

So as soon as he got Colin alone in his hotel room the next night, Bradley cut right to the chase. ‘ **Are you gay?** ’

‘ _Jesus_ , Bradley…’ Colin complained, sounding a bit winded. ‘You couldn’t lead into that gracefully?’

‘Like, you weren’t expecting that question tonight?’

Colin was looking besieged again. He shrugged irritably, keeping his distance. ‘I don’t know.’

‘You don’t know what you were expecting…?’

A withering look. ‘I don’t know if I’m…’

Bradley was astonished. ‘How can you not know?’

Colin apparently decided the best form of defence was attack. ‘ **Well, what are you?** ’

‘Straight. Kind of.’

‘ _Kind of_ …?’ Dripping with sarcasm.

‘Yeah.’

‘Sounds a lot like _I don’t know_ to me.’

‘Well, I’m curious. So maybe not… one hundred percent straight.’

Silence. Until Colin opened his mouth, and Bradley could tell another pointed _goodnight_ was on its way.

‘Aren’t you curious?’ Bradley quickly asked as gently as he could.

‘About what?’

‘Me.’

‘Oh yeah, cos all of this revolves around _you_ , Bradley James.’

‘I’m not saying that –’

‘ _Goodnight_ , Bradley.’

And shortly thereafter he found himself alone out in the hotel corridor again. Bradley hated hotel corridors. They were some of the blandest, bleakest, loneliest places on earth.

♦

### four

They headed back to Cardiff after their last stop at Caerleon. Mark and Stefan both lived locally, so they took off and Bradley and Colin were together again, properly. Just the two of them, the way it should be. And Colin had seemed a bit more relaxed with Bradley that morning, and that only got better now that the filming was done and the pressure was off. At some stage during the drive back into Cardiff, the back of Colin’s fingers just accidentally–on–purpose brushed against Bradley’s hand as he shifted down into fourth, and a tingle went through Bradley from his hand up his arm to his heart, and when he glanced at Colin he saw a softly apologetic look on a face that was really surprisingly pretty with those eyes large, wide, vulnerable and oh–so–blue in a pale face.

And it was understood now, there didn’t need to be any more questions asked or answered, it was just gonna happen between them like maybe it should have months or a year or more ago. They were friends, him and Colin, they had a connection, they were attuned, against the odds they _liked_ each other, and sooner or later of course it would come to this, of course they would connect in yet another way, and maybe in time it would become even more than that – because of course Bradley loved Colin, and had for some while now, loved him as a friend and as a colleague and as a person, Colin Morgan was probably the best and the nicest person Bradley would ever know in his entire life, and…

‘I know you think something’s gonna happen here,’ Colin said once they were alone in his room, and it was his tone more than his words that warned Bradley off – a tone that was wary and sceptical and sorry and ached with empathy – not to mention his accent, which had thickened with emotion. ‘You seem to think everything’s really clear now. But it’s not, Bradley. It just _isn’t_.’

‘What d’you mean?’ he said stupidly, stranded in some nowhere place between the door and the bed, while Colin kind of slid away out of reach.

‘This isn’t going to happen, Bradley. Not unless you ask me the right question.’

‘God, more questions.’

‘That’s how this started. That’s how it’s gonna end, one way or another.’

Bradley watched Colin for long moments. And Colin just couldn’t settle. Instead of propping his rear on the desk or whatever, he paced aimlessly back and forth, or rummaged in his bag for a while though emerging with nothing, or shoved his hands into the pockets of his hoodie before taking them out and running them down his jeans as if his palms were damp. And… and… there was something very _on_ about Colin. There was some kind of energy banked down deep within him ready to surge up and out and overflow, overcome, overwhelm. And it wasn’t hard to guess what it was.

‘D’you want me to say _please_?’ Bradley said hoarsely. ‘I can say _please_.’ He put on his best sincere face. ‘Please, Colin. **Please will you let me jump your bones?** ’

But Colin shook his head. ‘That’s not the right question.’

‘Your bones,’ he murmured, ‘your delicious bones, I want them so much – and, yeah, I don’t know what I’m doing, but you do, right? You know about… having sex with another man.’

Colin paused in his restlessness and looked very directly at Bradley. ‘No. Actually, I don’t.’

‘You haven’t actually… done it… with a man.’ This was so unexpected that Bradley felt quite flabbergasted. ‘A man, a guy, whatever. **You _haven’t_ with a _man_?** ’ This changed everything –

Colin’s hands were hanging at his sides now, making him look oddly undefended, indefensible. He tilted his head, quibbling. ‘That’s still not quite the right question. I’ll give you one last chance.’

– and yet it changed nothing. Bradley still wanted Colin, and he realised he had for such a very long time now. ‘What?’

‘Tonight you get to ask three questions. You’ve already asked two, so the last one has to be _right_.’

 _God, Colin…_ Bradley wandered over to the bed, sat down, and thought about it. So that last one had been close but no door prize, which meant some background assumption, some part of it was wrong, some aspect…

When it finally occurred to him, Bradley was almost too dazed to ask. And yet he knew now. _He knew._ ‘ **You never have… with _anyone_ …?**’

Colin nodded. Which might have been confusing, but Bradley knew he meant, yes, that was the right question. That Bradley had figured it out.

‘God, Colin.’ Bradley struggled to comprehend this. ‘You’re twenty–three, going on twenty–four. And you’ve never had sex. With a guy or a girl.’

Nods accepted the truth of all of this.

‘You’re a virgin,’ Bradley said, for the sake of clarification.

‘Yes,’ Colin confirmed.

Bradley himself had lost his virginity an embarrassingly long time ago, way back when he was barely legal, and he knew he’d been in the minority of his age group at the time. But since he’d left high school, he’d kind of assumed that pretty much everyone he ever associated with had _done it_ at some stage or other. There were so few reasons not to these days, as long as you were careful. But maybe he was wrong in his assumptions about the vast majority of people. And, OK, there must be some people, just a few maybe, who simply weren’t interested. Which was fine. But that wasn’t the case with Colin. Bradley _knew_ that. Colin was interested, all right. Colin had a sex drive or a libido or whatever you wanted to call it. That was obvious just looking at him right now, with all this yearning _want_ bubbling away under a deceptively calm surface. Bradley cleared his throat. ‘Um, but you’ve, uh… I dunno… kissed? Cuddled? Dated? That kind of thing.’

‘Yeah.’

‘Well… OK. God. How did that happen? Or not happen,’ he amended, for which he earned a droll look.

‘What, you want details?’

‘Yeah.’

‘My entire sexual history, as it were. Such as it is.’

‘Yeah, I do. Under the circumstances, I really do.’ Bradley considered him for a long moment. ‘And maybe you wanna talk about it, yeah? I’m guessing it’s not something you can discuss with just anyone.’

‘No,’ Colin agreed faintly. ‘Not with just anyone.’

‘So, come and sit down before you fall down. D’you want a drink? A bit of courage? And then pretend I’m an interviewer and you’re giving me an exclusive scoop.’

Colin shot him a dry look, but then headed for the mini bar. Scowled at the contents before snagging a bottle of Kilkenny for himself and a Carling which he handed to Bradley. Then Colin went to sit on the bed, with his back to the headboard and his knees drawn up to his chest, his sneakered feet crossed at the ankles and tucked in close to places where Bradley had hoped he himself would have been by now. Bradley spun around on his rear and settled cross–legged, facing Colin but not too directly. There was no point in making this feel like an inquisition.

And after a contemplative silence and a few drags of beer, Colin said, ‘Well, I had a girlfriend through most of high school, a _real_ girlfriend, and –’

‘Real, as opposed to…?’

‘I mean serious. I loved her, I really did.’

‘What was her name?’

‘Danni. Danielle.’

Bradley lifted his beer in a toast to the long–lost Danielle, which Colin acknowledged with a tilt of his chin.

‘And we were all – we were _all_ religious to one degree or another, I know that’s not how you were brought up, but it was just like breathing and sleeping and eating for us. Danni was a lot more into it than me, she felt it deeply. So of course we were gonna wait until we got married, even though that would be _years_. There was no question about it, really.’ Colin sighed, and downed the rest of his beer. ‘But somehow she just hadn’t been expecting me to head for drama school in Belfast, even though I’d always talked about being an actor. It was really bizarre, because I’d always known what I wanted to be, and I’d always been completely upfront about who I was, and we’d been so close for years – really we grew up together, I had _no_ secrets from her – and then one day it was as if she didn’t even recognise me any more. So that just kind of fell apart and disappeared overnight, and I was in Belfast, and alone for the first time in years.’

‘So, what happened next?’

‘I developed this mammoth crush on someone who just wasn’t interested in the slightest.’

‘Someone…?’ Bradley prompted.

Colin nodded in answer to the question Bradley was really asking, but didn’t rush his story. ‘You know what crushes are like. I didn’t develop it so much as it fell on me like a ten ton weight. And… to be fair to myself, I think I was honestly in love, very much in love – if real love can ever be entirely one–sided. D’you think it can?’

Bradley nodded in agreement, though he wasn’t entirely sure he knew anything much about real love. Not yet, anyway. He wanted to learn.

‘And it was pretty confusing,’ Colin continued, ‘and sometimes I wondered if Danni had seen something in me that I hadn’t. I hardly recognised myself either. Cos it was a guy. Name of Stuart. He was totally straight, of course. And to be fair to him, he coped surprisingly well with me making an utter fool of myself. But even though it was hopeless, I just couldn’t move on or think about anyone else.’ Colin put his empty beer bottle aside, but didn’t make a move to fetch another one. ‘Then Stuart went to London when we graduated, and I headed for Glasgow.’

‘How long before you stopped pining for him?’

‘Well, not long, really. I threw myself into the work. Learned everything I possibly could. Got involved with every production that would have me – any role, or as an extra, backstage, scene painting, ticketing, promotion, you name it.’

‘But, you see,’ said Bradley, spreading his hands expansively, ‘this is what I don’t get: _drama school_. How is it even possible to _not_ get laid at drama school?’

Colin shrugged. ‘One track mind.’

‘Yeah, I realise you probably took it all, like, _three times_ more seriously than me, but still… It’s not like you can do any one thing 24/7. Is it?’

Another shrug. ‘It just never happened. And after a while it became… a Thing. Like, too big a deal to give away to just anyone. I didn’t really fall in love again, nothing that went very deep or lasted, anyway. And I’ve never been the sort of guy who people find attractive unless there’s some other kind of connection –’

‘Are you kidding?’ Bradley protested. ‘You’re beautiful!’

A rather sour look greeted this. ‘Compared to you –’

‘I’m just handsome, and that’s fine. I’m not complaining. You’re something else again, Colin Morgan. Something wonderful.’

‘ _Anyway_ ,’ Colin said heavily, as if he just wasn’t prepared to argue the point, ‘you weirdo. Now _Merlin_ keeps us pretty busy for eight months of the year –’

‘Not _that_ busy.’

‘– and I decided to just throw myself into the show. This is my big break, you know? So other things got put to one side. And then…’

Bradley boggled. ‘There’s more?’ Then he belatedly realised that the religious side of things must still factor into it.

‘I’d been confused when I fell for Stuart, but eventually I realised I’m pretty much gay. I loved Danni, I really did, and I’m not saying I’ll never fall for a woman again. But I’m, like, ninety percent gay.’

‘And is that a problem, with you also being Catholic?’

But Colin kind of shrugged this off. ‘I found my own peace with that. It’s more about being an actor. Like, why hardly anyone comes out until they’re past the age of playing the romantic lead. Not that I’m likely to win many of _those_ roles in my life –’

‘Huh!’ Bradley cogently disputed.

‘– but, still. It’s a consideration. How old was Richard before he came out…? How well established was his career?’

‘I appreciate that _he_ couldn’t, but that’s, like, _two_ generations ago. It’s different these days.’

‘Is it? Would you be willing to take the risk if it was your career on the line?’

Bradley considered Colin carefully. Thoughtfully.

‘You know what the fans say to me about you?’ Colin continued. ‘They want to see you as James Bond one day. Well, the public made enough fuss about Daniel Craig being blond when he was cast. Can you imagine living through the furore if they cast someone who’s openly gay? And you’d have to live with that for months, and turn in your best performance _ever_ , trying not to second guess yourself, and knowing that no one will be able to judge what you’re doing properly until it’s all _way_ too late to change anything.’

They stared at each other for long moments as a silence grew. And then Colin’s gaze dropped to the rather bland brown bed coverings, and he seemed to lose himself in his thoughts.

Until Bradley finally asked, ‘Are you trying to warn me off?’

‘What?’

‘I want you, Colin. I guess that, if it works between us, then it’s gonna be a relationship. Isn’t it? Cos we’re already friends. And I –’ He wasn’t quite game enough to say it yet. ‘And I care about you – a lot. A  _lot_. So are you trying to warn me off starting anything?’

‘Maybe.’

‘What if it’s already started?’

Colin was staring at him again, looking both shielded and yearning at the same time. Those blue eyes dark and enigmatic now rather than light and vulnerable. And he was beautiful, so very beautiful, and Bradley wanted nothing more than to ease forward onto his hands and knees and crawl up the bed to his friend, and _kiss_ him.

But Colin was saying, ‘Think about it. Don’t do anything now. Think about it. At least overnight. It would be a really serious step to take, Bradley.’

‘I know,’ he said, though his voice was virtually nonexistent. ‘I know. And you?’ he asked, finding his courage somewhere.

‘What about me?’

‘You said it had become a Thing. Losing your virginity. Finally having sex.’

‘Oh.’ Colin sat up, hunching his shoulders and wrapping his arms tightly around his folded legs, until he was no more than a narrow little huddle.

‘Am I… Am I important enough to you for you to share that with me?’

‘ _Oh Bradley_ …’ he whispered. ‘You put it like that…’

‘Like what?’

‘Sharing. Not you taking or me giving. But us sharing.’

‘Well, OK. Of course.’ Though he was forced to confess, ‘I don’t think I put it that way deliberately.’

‘No, exactly. It’s how you’re thinking. That says so much about you, Bradley James.’

Which was an extravagant compliment, but Bradley nodded in understanding rather than agreement, and found himself biting at his lower lip. ‘Is that a yes, then?’

Colin’s beautiful blue eyes were wide and a bit panicked and oh–so–hungry. ‘Don’t make me say it. Not yet.’

‘It’s a yes,’ Bradley confirmed, though he made no move towards his friend. ‘And I’m gonna say yes, too. Tomorrow, though, like you want. If we have to wait until tomorrow, we’ll wait. And then we’re gonna be saying yes.’

‘God, are you _sure_?’

‘Yeah, cos… James Bond and all that? That’s not real. You and me are real. You and me together is real. Half the world seems to think we’re already doing it anyway, so where’s the harm?’

‘Bradley…’

‘And if it comes down to all that hassle when we’re auditioning for some big role or whatever, then we fight that fight. We change the world, a little bit at a time.’

 _‘Bradley…’_

‘Starting with you and your virginity. And me and my straightness. And I finally find out –’

‘What?’ Hanging on his every word, bless the sweet man.

‘– if all it takes is one little tug to have those jeans of yours down round your ankles.’

Colin spluttered a giggle. His eyes were hot and liquid like blue lava. Bradley suspected it would take very little to actually seduce Colin Morgan right there and then. But Colin still had the resources to whisper a promise and a plea: ‘Tomorrow.’

Bradley nodded, and uncurled, clambered back off the bed. Headed for the door. Paused at the last moment before pushing the handle down. Turned to see Colin still sitting huddled there, staring after him with mingled regret and relief. Bradley said, ‘You didn’t ask me a question, and I got to ask you three. D’you wanna ask me something?’

Colin nodded. And after a moment, he said, ‘ **D’you love me?** ’

‘You wanna know that now?’

‘Yeah.’

‘Yeah. Yes, I do. I really do.’

Tears welled in those hot blue eyes, but they didn’t spill. ‘I love you,’ Colin said.

Bradley nodded. ‘Tomorrow, then. Goodnight, Colin.’

‘Goodnight…’

And he slipped out of there before he could do anything totally uncool or uncouth. Like sprint to the bed and jump on his friend and fuck him every which way but loose (if that made any sense and didn’t actually mean something gross). Tomorrow… Tomorrow there’d be time for all of that, and then maybe they could try it again and again during all the tomorrows forever after.

♦

### five

Of course Bradley was idiot enough to sleep in late the next morning. He barely made it down to breakfast in time to grab a coffee to go, and then they were checking out, and finding the car rental place, and dashing for the eleven twenty–five to Paddington.

The train wasn’t busy, but after getting more coffee in the buffet car they headed down to the second last carriage to find seats that didn’t have too many people within earshot. And they hunkered down low, and put their heads together, and Colin’s wide blue eyes were full of nerves and promises. They just kind of watched each other for a while, but eventually Bradley was caffeinated enough to start planning ahead. ‘So,’ he whispered, ‘how is this gonna work?’

Colin shifted his head back just far enough to focus a baffled look upon Bradley. Then he pushed in close again to mutter directly into Bradley’s ear: ‘OK, I realise you haven’t been with a guy before, but I figured you had the mechanics pretty much worked out.’

‘Yeah, sure, transferable skills and all that. But I meant… _when_ and _where_.’ Then Bradley frowned. ‘And now you mention it, oh virgin mine, the question does arise of exactly _what_.’

Colin said, a bit primly, ‘If it’s gonna happen, it should just happen naturally. Don’t you think?’

‘What d’you mean, _if_?’ Bradley demanded rather loudly.

 _‘Shush!’_

‘I thought we’d agreed already!’ he protested in only slightly more reasonable tones.

‘All right, all right. _When_ it happens, it should just happen naturally.’

Bradley looked at him askance. ‘It’s strange notions like that, I imagine, wot have kept you firmly wedded to your virginity.’

Colin hissed, ‘If you say the V word one more time in public, _I will kill you_.’

‘The V word…? What,’ asked Bradley in his normal speaking voice: ‘ _vegetarian_? Or d’you mean _virgin_ , maybe. What a total weirdo you are, Colin Morgan…’

A glare of epic proportions, but then luckily Colin collapsed into giggles. ‘Stop it!’

Bradley regarded him fondly for a few minutes, but then he figured he’d better get the planning session back on track. ‘OK, all right. It should just happen naturally. What does that even mean?’

Colin shrugged and commented rather unhelpfully, ‘It means what it means.’

Bradley scrambled over the possibilities of when and where. ‘What if it’s natural for me to wine you and dine you this evening, and then take you to some fancy hotel for A Night To Remember?’

Colin was shaking his head from about nine words into that. ‘Nah. Not natural at all.’

OK, Plan B. ‘What if we just head to my place from Paddington – or yours, if you like, but mine is closer – and basically as soon as the door is shut and locked, I kiss you to within an inch of your life and then drag you into my bedroom…?’

Colin had turned exasperated after eight words. ‘Well, it’s not gonna be natural _now_ , is it?’

‘Oh, that’s not fair!’

‘Is that what you would have done, like, by instinct?’

‘Yeah. Makes sense, doesn’t it? If you don’t wanna be wined and dined.’

‘That would have been all right,’ Colin agreed, a bit sad as if he were now gonna miss out on something nice.

‘Well, that’s what we’ll do, then.’

‘But –’

‘If you don’t shut up about just letting it happen, I’m going with Plan C.’

‘What’s Plan C?’

‘I’m glad you asked.’ Bradley grabbed a fistful of Colin’s hoodie, hauled him close, and pressed his mouth against the other man’s – who gasped into the kiss, their first kiss, and really that was mean and dumb of Bradley to have done it just to make a point. So he gentled his hand, softened his mouth, and offered a real kiss, his lips hungry and apologetic, and the tip of his tongue sneaking out to flick as enticingly as possibly against Colin’s full lower lip – and Colin was moaning, and going with it, and giving back as good as he got, in his own ways. He obviously knew how to kiss, did Colin, and they would just have to learn each other now, and find their own rhythms and patterns and surprises.

They kissed and kissed until movement or footsteps or something alerted them to someone coming down the aisle, and then they pulled apart and each fell back in his own seat, and they half sprawled there, panting with _want_ , and glancing at each other now and then with happily conspiratorial smiles.

Eventually Bradley had to ask, though… ‘What exactly are you gonna want, Morgan?’

‘Sex,’ Colin helpfully replied.

‘OK, I think I got that far on my own.’ Bradley frowned a bit, and shoved his hands in his jacket pockets. ‘The thing is… what exactly constitutes losing your virginity with another guy? I mean, as far as _I’m_ concerned, once we’ve made each other come, then I’m batting for the other team. But what about you? Is that enough? Or…?’ Bradley risked a glance at Colin’s open innocent face, and abruptly lost his nerve. ‘Hang on a sec.’ And he reached for his Blackberry, and despite Colin’s confused scowl started keying in a message.

The confusion and the scowl disappeared a moment after he thumbed the send option and Colin’s clunky old Motorola chimed like a doorbell. Colin dug it out and lowered his head to read: {Do u wanna fuck? Which way round?} Colin gaped at him. Bradley started keying again. _Ding dong._ {R u gonna wanna fuck me?}

And Colin was suddenly staring at Bradley with earnest all–consuming _need_ , and if gazes could penetrate then Bradley would have just lost his last remaining bit of virginity. He felt himself flush – all over – his face grew warm, and his body slid down a little further in the seat, his thighs widened as if he’d already instinctively given himself. ‘Oh god…’ he moaned quietly. His thumbs skittered over the keys. {B gentl w/ me!}

‘Gentle as I can be.’ Colin looked at him and offered stoutly, ‘Then you can take your revenge and have me. If you like.’

And Bradley, still sprawled surrendering, imagined himself plunging between the gentle curves of Colin’s narrow arse, and he moaned again, and wondered if it was even possible for men to have spontaneous orgasms. He texted the question to Colin, who leaned close to his ear and whispered, ‘I did once. But then I’ve led a deprived life –’

‘– unlike my depraved one. When?’

Colin grinned at him. ‘Not so very long ago… by a lake in Gloucestershire.’

‘Was I involved in _any_ way whatsoever?’

‘You could say that. You were wet. Your hair was plastered flat round your beautiful head. You were wearing that blue tunic you look so fine in. I saw you changing, off in the trees. I shouldn’t have even been looking, I know, but I’d assumed you were at least wearing boxers, James.’

‘Oh, but they chafe under those damned trousers and chaps when we’re getting drenched all day.’

‘So I gather. Well, you put on quite the display. I got to see _everything_ under those blue shirttails. And you were… trying to warm yourself up a bit…’

Bradley groaned, closing his eyes for a moment, remembering. He’d been cold and miserable and alone at the time, but looking back now that he knew he’d had an interested witness, the scene was imbued with light and warmth and magic. ‘So what happened…?’

‘I was gonna touch myself, watching you… but then you tossed your head back, and there was something about the thick column of your throat and the thick column of your cock hanging against your strong thigh…’

‘ _Oh god_ …’

‘And I’d hardly even shifted my hand towards my own cock when you groaned, and ran your hand down to rub at your balls, which made your cock kind of bounce around heavily, and I –’

‘You came?’

Colin chuckled. ‘I did. It’s just as well we were both in the lake that day, so costume didn’t notice that I had to rinse out Merlin’s pants.’

‘God, how long till we get to Paddington? Cos Plan D might become a humiliating necessity.’

‘Not long now.’

‘Then you’re coming to mine, Morgan, I don’t care what you say.’

‘I’m coming to yours,’ Colin equably agreed. ‘Hey, uh… do we, uh…’ He blushed charmingly, and started keying a message into his phone.

Bradley’s Blackberry started playing _You’re the Voice_. ‘Your own personal ringtone, Morgan,’ he commented darkly. ‘You’ve no idea the trouble I went to.’ He read the message. {Do we need to stop by a pharmacy for supplies?} ‘No, mate,’ Bradley said softly. ‘I’m sorry, but I’m always fully stocked. Just in case.’

‘You don’t have to be sorry.’

‘And you don’t have to worry. We’ll be safe. I promise.’

‘I know,’ said Colin. And the blush deepened before he bent his head over his phone again. {I know I’m always safe with you.}

They held hands for the rest of the trip then, and they didn’t even budge when people walked past.

♦

After an interminable Tube journey, they were behind Bradley’s closed and locked front door, and they totally went with Plan B for a while, which involved just dropping their bags where they stood and clinging to each other and _kissing kissing kissing_ … And it was brilliant and it was wonderful, but Bradley soon lost his nerve a bit and pulled away. ‘Uh, Colin…?’ he breathed.

‘Just go with it, Bradley. Let it happen.’

‘But I don’t know if –’

Colin growled, which was almost enough to provoke Bradley into action again. ‘ _Stop thinking, James._ ’

‘Aren’t you nervous? I’m so fucking nervous.’

‘What are you nervous about?’ Colin asked with really quite _astonishing_ patience under the circumstances.

‘It’s your first time,’ he explained. ‘I want this to be good for you. But it’s not like I really know what I’m doing.’

‘Are first times ever good? I mean, _really_ good?’

‘Probably not.’ He gulped. ‘You’re not helping, Morgan.’

‘Sorry.’

‘Um… Aren’t _you_ nervous? It’s your first time!’

Colin laughed, though there was a slight note of hysteria to it. ‘I am aware of that fact.’

‘So…’

‘I’m not scared, Bradley. It’s _you_. And I’m ready. _God_ , I’m ready,’ he added, his voice deepening, his brogue thickening.

Bradley swallowed again, and took a step back towards him. Colin met him halfway, and they were kissing again. But when Colin broke away to start kissing and licking and nibbling his way down Bradley’s throat, Bradley offered, ‘Would it help if you closed your eyes and pretended I’m Sean Penn?’

‘Not in the slightest,’ Colin flatly replied. He considered Bradley with a quizzical brow. ‘Why? Would it help if _you_ pretended you’re Sean Penn?’

‘At least he’d probably know what he was doing. And you like him, don’t you?’

‘As an _actor_. When it comes to lovers, I like _you_ , Bradley James. Let’s go with your Plan B.’

‘Yeah?’

‘Yeah. The next bit, as I recall, was you dragging me down to your bedroom.’

‘I can do that.’

‘ _Excellent_ ,’ said the poor long–suffering virginal Colin.

♦

Though Bradley stalled again once they got there.

‘Would it help,’ suggested Colin, ‘if we consider this a dress rehearsal? Or even just a read–through? No pressure at all. We can work up to the opening night performance. We can do your Plan A in a week or maybe two, and in the meantime we can rehearse and rehearse and rehearse, every chance we get.’

‘I think that’s probably the best idea you’ve ever had, Morgan.’

‘Oh good… cos I am _so_ wanting to get laid right now.’

Bradley reached down to grasp the hem of Colin’s hoodie, and drew it up and over his head. ‘Well, we can run those lines, and see how they sound, improvise a bit, that’s fine.’

‘Excellent,’ said Colin, heeling off his sneakers. ‘Really. I think it’s important to get the right feel for the characters, though. I think it’s probably important to the whole concept of the piece that they’re naked.’

‘I do take your point,’ Bradley agreed, lifting off the layers of his own t–shirts together in one move. ‘It’s an undress rehearsal.’

‘Hey, whatever works best, let’s run with that.’

♦

And this worked, there was no denying that. Bradley James and Colin Morgan naked together in Bradley’s bed. Holding each other close with an arm round the other’s waist, their cocks pressing and jouncing together as they shifted. Kissing, always kissing. And Colin’s bright blue eyes were looking excited and spooked and ecstatic and terrified. And he trusted Bradley, it was obvious that he trusted Bradley _implicitly_ , which was the most amazing thing _ever_ , and Bradley wanted to spend the rest of a very long and fruitful life being worthy of that, but could he ever possibly be good enough for this gorgeous amazing wonderful person in his arms, this genius this beauty this epitome of decency –

‘Bradley, it’s _you_ ,’ Colin was babbling, ‘of course you’re good enough you idiot, there’s no question of that, you’re all I want, everything I’ve ever wanted…’

‘You are so fucking incredible, Colin Morgan…’ As they moved together, shifting together with no rhyme or rhythm but it was just the most awesome thing to feel Colin’s skin and bones and cock and hands and thighs against his own.

‘Yeah, fucking…’ Colin said, like he was grasping at that point. ‘We were gonna… D’you want me to…’

‘Just go with it,’ Bradley murmured. ‘Let it happen. Whatever you want.’

‘Oh, cos I’m gonna just, like… _explode_ any minute now.’

‘D’you wanna be inside me? I don’t care. You don’t have to take it slow. You don’t have to be careful. You can just –’

‘Next time,’ Colin said. ‘Next time, slow and careful. This time, I wanna –’ And he was pushing over on top of Bradley, moving over him, thrusting against him, and it was just so _awesome_ , with those narrow hips moving sinuously mesmerising, and their cocks hard and hot and frictiony against the tender skin by each other’s hips.

‘Yes, Colin, yes, like that, god _just_ like that –’ His hands at last shaping themselves to the graceful curves of Colin’s delectable arse, and he would never have thought this would be enough but actually it was almost too much, too much, to have his beautiful friend on _fire_ over him, leaning down to kiss him, and then arching back – that long body stretching taut, the glowing pulses within Colin’s cock and balls a tremor through their sensitised skin so that Bradley knew exactly when Colin’s seed would well between, spreading as they kept moving – that beautiful face astonished with pleasure, those lips parted on a breath, the eyes closed for a moment but then opening and looking down into him, full of love and gratitude and hunger answered and hunger renewed – ‘Colin!’ – and Bradley came, too, though really it was all one, Colin’s pleasure rolling down into him and through him and out of him, and they moved together with their seed slippery between them, welding them together, until at last Colin lay down over Bradley, spent totally spent, and they held each other close.

♦

‘Oh god Bradley…’ Colin said after a while.

‘ **Was that all right, then?** ’

‘It was perfect.’ Colin lifted his head to grin cheekily at Bradley. ‘You _know_ it was perfect.’

‘Only cos it was perfect for me, too.’ Bradley kissed him. ‘God, Colin, you and me… This is gonna be…’

‘Yeah, it is.’

Another kiss. ‘Questions? Requests? Feedback?’

‘One question.’

‘Fire away.’

Colin shifted up onto an elbow to consider him carefully. ‘ **How soon can we do it again?** ’

 

♦


End file.
